


Dangerous animals

by earthlostgirl



Category: Cowboy Bebop (Anime)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Blood, Bounty Hunters, Canon-Typical Violence, Drinking, F/M, Fluff, Gambling, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, Injury, Injury Recovery, Post-Canon, Shooting, Slow Burn, Smoking, Swearing, Trauma, Trust Issues, tag hell
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:22:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27725443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earthlostgirl/pseuds/earthlostgirl
Summary: Could you return back to reality? Can you survive the dream?  Can you move forward or will you remain stuck?Things are never easy and certainly not when there are still many loose ends to tie up and when the hunter becomes the prey.The dysfunctional bounty hunter family still has things to say and do.
Relationships: Spike Spiegel/Faye Valentine
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	1. War planet

* * *

**-The gypsy blues-**

She couldn't tell night from day, couldn't remember when was the last time she placed something in her mouth, or the last time she slept. 

Nothing was working, not the engines, not the air, not the artificial gravity.

Bebop cracked with every step, but the silence drained it all away. Even though Jet was walking around trying to repair something, anything. Maybe he was doing it to stay busy, just to avoid thinking.

Lying on the navigation console, she observed the vast desert that spread out before her eyes, miles, and miles of reddish land that offered nothing but desolation, the sky was red, the ground was red, Mars, the planet of the war god, the planet of blood. 

Faye hid her head in her arms as she realized that Jet was approaching, she didn't want to talk to him, she didn't want to talk to anyone.

For four days they had been silent or maybe it was five, she neither knew nor wanted to know, Spike had abandoned them and was probably dead, but until one of them state it into words, it wouldn't be true.

Jet didn't accept calls from his ISSP friends, placing himself in the same denial position as her, like ignorance could save them from pain.

The vibration of her communicator startled her and Faye stared at the device for minutes, allowing it to ring, the vibe tickled her arms, she closed her eyes, begging it to stop, as if just wishing it that damn thing would stop working.

With the head buried in it, she bit one of her arms to suffocate a scream full of frustration. She hurt herself until she bled, needed to feel that she was still alive.

The phone buzzed again, twice... three to seven times, picked it up to smash it against the glass but as she read the screen her blood stopped moving.

Spike.

The bloody Spike Spiegel had risen on the fourth day, a late Jesus Christ. Well, she was going to send him back to the grave.

“Damn you and your stupid face,” Faye hissed as soon as she took the phone call.

“I'm not who you expected,” replied in a low voice that old Earth mechanic with tanned skin.

“Doohan? What are you doing with Spike's phone?” She asked puzzled.

“A few days ago I picked up a pile of garbage from the Red Dragons' headquarters,” he snorted, moving the communicator to reveal the room.

Spike was lying on an old leather couch, covered in bandages and a cigarette was hanging from his lips, he shook his hand in a listless greeting and closed his eyes again.

“I have him in the workshop. I'm not a charity sister who picks up beaten cats, come here and take him.”

Doohan hung up the phone before she could react or say anything.

Faye gulped down to get past the dryness in her throat, couldn't shift her eyes off the screen, he was alive, the idiot was alive, and didn't know whether to cry, laugh or just scream.

“Faye?” asked Jet in the background.

“Can we fly? Will the Bebop make it to Earth?”

“What do you want now, Faye? Clearly no, we're screwed,” he replied with a grumble.

“He's alive,” she said, walking toward him and pushing the communicator to his chest. “He's in Doohan's workshop. We'll fly to him, even if this damn thing falls apart.”

“What? How is that possible? It's impossible... it's... How?”

“Ask him yourself, but make it quick, because I plan to beat him to death.”

“Faye... if the ship runs it might not fly and if it flies it might...”

“Jet...” She cut him off by filling her lungs with oxygen. “Light this hell's machine and let's kill the bastard.”

She didn't want to hear any more bullshit. The Bebop would fly, whether Jet wanted it or not. Even if the ship blew itself to pieces as it crossed the Earth's atmosphere.

Spike was alive and she was suddenly starving.

**-From one couch to another-**

Doohan's place was nothing but a metal box in which the old man had placed a bunch of furniture and an old gas hob.

Doohan had a fan that worked when it felt like it, an uncomfortable couch, and a bunch of automotive magazines. Some of them were older than he was.

Miles went in and out of that place to check if he was still alive so Spike had nothing to do but lie on the couch and wait.

Wait for the pain to go away. He knew his body would heal soon, kind of, but other wounds were better buried and pretended they weren't there. It wasn't the healthiest of ideas, but it was an idea that would serve him to move forward.

“Hey baldy, over here. The little punk is in there,” he heard Doohan say from outside the box.

“I hope it wasn't too much trouble,” Jet replied.

“Trouble? No, what it was is a huge amount of money,” Doohan added. “The trip to Mars, taking back the Swordfish, the doctor, the medicines...”

“Yeah, yeah... I understand,” he hearded Jet sigh. “Add the massive repairs Bebop needs to the bill, we'll be around for a long time.”

“Do what you want, but get that pile of bones off my couch and pay me.”

Jet showed up at the door and took a long, worried look. He leaned against the frame and sighed, shaking his head.

“Damn, Spike-o, you sure know how to make a dramatic exit,” Jet said and walked over to the edge of the sofa.

“I like a good show. You know me,” he replied, smiling back.

“Do you have a cigarette?” Jet lit a cigarette and placed it on his lips. The smoke in his lungs did him good. He pushed himself up and seated on the couch.

“I have to get you home,” Jet said, placing one arm behind his back and helping him stand up.

“Good, cos I miss the Bebop couch, this one's uncomfortable,” Spike joked, shifting his weight on his friend.

Bebop was in pieces and it was his fault. He didn't even comprehend how it was capable to travel to Earth. However, barely seeing the old pile of junk made him feel better. The feeling of home, warmth, and familiarity seethed from it.

“Where is the girl?” Spike asked as they walked through the hallway.

“She's somewhere on Earth with her father and Ein. Ed hasn't come back to Bebop,” Jet replied casually without even looking at him.

“The other girl, Jet,” Spike sighed, taking a break to recover his breath. He hadn't thought that little walk would be so hard for him.

“Is there any reason for you guys to avoid uttering your names that I missed?” Jet asked, and Spike just gave him a tired look. “She's somewhere on the ship,” concluded his friend.

Jet deposited him down on the worn yellow couch. The whiplash of pain ran through him from head to toe. So much so that breathing represented an excruciating task.

“Do you have anything for the pain?” Spike asked. “I have painkillers,” Jet replied cautiously, as he lit a cigarette.

“Do you have anything stronger than that?” He asked, knowing there was a thin line between healing and drug abuse, but at that point, even a shot of morphine would have made him happy.

“I don't think that's a clever idea,” Jet muttered.

“I'm a grown man. A sore adult. Better codeine than a punch to knock me out,” Spike replied, looking at the floor, trying hard not to sound desperate.

“I'm more in the mood for a punch, Spike.”

As he fought Vicious, he thought he would never laugh with Jet again. A cheerful laugh, the kind that comes from the heart. That's why he was incapable to contain himself even if it hurt like hell.

“Right, kid, I'm going to get you something,” Jet finally said as he walked away from the room.

He followed him with his eyes until he discovered Faye leaning against one of the doors.

Her arms were crossed, and she was looking straight at him. A cigarette was hanging from her lips, and she looked very angry.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” She asked, looking at an undetermined part of the ship. “Or just a bunch of new wounds?”

“I'm not even sure I'm looking for anything, Faye,” he replied looking at the ceiling, the fan was spinning and someone had tied some colorful ribbons to it. “I don't even know if I feel better.”

“Nobody does, Spike,” whispered Faye.

“Anyway, I'm glad you didn't leave,” Spike said looking straight at her.

“I'm glad you didn't die,” she replied, looking back at him.

**-Desert-**

The Earth was a strange place, dry and hot, and after a few weeks there he couldn't get used to the temperature changes, hot days, and cold nights. Besides, the climate was uncontrollable, and some areas were inhabitable because of the meteor shower. Nothing good came from Earth, that old saying that his father used to repeat couldn't be more true.

From one desert to another, from Mars to Earth, it was fate that Bebop didn't fall apart on the way to Doohan's workshop. On the other hand, it was lucky that the guy worked at repairing ships since they had a lot of stuff to repair.

However, the most important thing was that the bastard was alive. The traitorous little rat had survived his existential crisis and was there to give them headaches again.

Spike welcomed them lying on the old man's couch, covered in bandages and smiling as nothing had happened. And so he kept going. Went to the Bebop couch, and there rested his holy ass for days until he decided to walk again.

Jet finished hanging the laundry on the deck, surrounded by the annoying noises of Miles who was already working on the repairs of his beloved ship. Doohan meanwhile was busy with the Red Tail that perched on the desert sand looked like a soap bubble.

Faye watched and listened to the explanations as if she really could grasp a single technical word that the mechanic could describe her.

Spike limped out of the Bebop with the toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, nodded to him, and went over to Miles to check out what he was performing. He hobbled over to him, wearing only his training pants and on his naked torso could be seen the marks of his previous adventure, bullets, cuts, bandages, and scars, life lessons learned through blows. Jet wanted to look elsewhere but was unable to. He had almost lost his friend, his partner, and it was a hard pill to swallow.

“Good morning, old man,” Spike said, spitting out the remaining toothpaste and tucking the brush into his pant leg.

“Days, have you rested?” Jet asked, sometimes he felt like the father of that odd crew. “

My bed is better than Doohan's couch, although not much better,” Spike replied, stretching out his muscles and allowing the sun bathed him.

“I've been talking to Doohan. There's a town nearby, so I'm going to go get some supplies and a couple of pieces he's asked for. Will you come with me?”

“Naaa, I'm going to start with the exercises today, so I'll get screwed,” he spread his arms and crunched his fingers. “I'll probably pass out, so I'd rather be around someone who can take care of me.”

Spike winked and burst out laughing, and he felt like punching him.

“Suit yourself Spike-o,” Jet sighed and scratched the back of his head.

Spike walked up the stairs and met Faye coming up from the workshop. They crossed a couple of comments he couldn't hear but from the little harpy's tedious expression it hadn't been pleasant at all. Faye hit Spike on the shoulder. Spike faked an exaggerated pain, she got worried, and he smirked at her, getting her to tell him to fuck off.

A couple of hopeless morons, that's what they were: Two emotional idiots incapable to interact as human beings.


	2. Bounty

* * *

**A lovely mess**  
  
Spike exercised his arms, punching the air. He replicated the exercise over and over again, to gain speed. Taking deep breaths in each movement. He performed the same movement with his legs. Kicking against an imaginary enemy. On the door lintel, there was a metal bar that he used to do push-ups. Spike stood up with the strength of his arms fifteen times before returning to the initial position. He took a breath again and expelled it slowly. Ready for another workout.   
  
Faye walked into the room and cleared her throat loudly.   
  
“Did you want something?” he asked, hitting fast with his right leg repeatedly.   
  
“I'm just waiting,” replied Faye, taking a long puff on her cigarette as she tended her back against the wall.   
  
“For what?” he replied as he kept on stretching his muscles.   
  
“For you to fall to the ground in a mass of pain and blood,” she replied without looking into his eyes. “Only a fool would train in your condition, though of course, you are the king of fools.”  
  
“I appreciate your concern,” he replied with a cynical smile.  
  
Faye raised her eyebrows annoyed and flicked the cigarette to the ground, stomping on it with rage as she muttered intelligible words.  
  
“I'm fine, Faye,” said Spike, quitting the training. “I don't feel comfortable lying around all day.”  
  
“What?” she couldn't hold back a laugh. "That's all you do.”  
  
Spike smiled when he walked by her side.  
  
“I'm hungry,” he said. “I'm sure Jet has prepared something, smells like food or some such thing.”  
  
Faye heaved a sigh and followed him down the hall. There was Jet sitting in the old yellow seat, smoking languidly as he stared at an insipid plate of boiled pasta without any garnishing.  
  
“Great Jet! A proper meal,” Spike said with a sarcastic laugh as he plopped down on the couch, Faye sat down on the other side with a bowl in her hands.  
  
“It turns out that we ought to face a lot of money in repairs and medicine because someone decided to take on a suicidal adventure,” Jet replied putting out his cigarette against the ashtray as he took a bite of paste in his mouth and grimaced in disappointment.  
  
Spike grinned, placing his legs on the table.  
  
“That doesn't stop this food from tasting like hell,” Spike remarked with his mouth full.  
  
Jet let out a chuckle before opening a can of beer and taking a long sip as he sighed in frustration.   
  
***  
  
He was bleeding, a large red spot was visible on his chest bandage, shining like a rose in the snow. Spike removed the bandage and found some stitches were damaged. He took the alcohol to clean the wound and cast a listless glance at the suture and needle lying on the bathroom cabinet. It was going to hurt like hell.  
  
“Fuck,”  
  
Turned his head as he heard Faye's startled voice who bent down to pick up the towel she had dropped on the floor.  
  
“Hi-ho,” Spike smiled sassily as he soaked a white cloth in disinfectant.  
  
Faye stood at the door, staring at the scar that ran across his torso. While Spike tried to hide how much the alcohol was stinging his wounds. He didn't want to think about how painful it would be to pull his stitches back. Spike stuck the needle in, and this time he was incapable to hide the tremor from his hands.  
  
“Do you want me to call Jet?” wondered Faye who hadn't moved from where she was.  
  
He shook his head, looking at the thin needle. Gathering the courage for the following step.  
  
“Do you want me to do it?” she repeated barely in a whisper.  
  
Spike heaved a sigh and held the needle out to her without uttering a word.  
  
“Sit down,” Faye ordered, pointing to the toilet bowl. Spike obeyed without complaining, and she dragged a chair and sat down in front of him. Faye snapped her tongue at the sight of some white threads on his wound. She drenched the cloth with water and carefully wiped his scar. He was so close to her that he could smell the scent of shampoo in her hair.  
  
“Are you mad at me?” Spike asked as he observed her take the needle, without looking into his eyes.  
  
“No,” she answered, letting out a tired gasp as she placed a hand on his chest. “Don't move.”  
  
Spike clutched at the toilet and squeezed his lips. It was painful, but he wasn't going to complain.  
  
“Would you like sharing a memory with me?” Spike asked without barely raising his voice. He needed thinking about something other than the pain.  
  
“No,” Faye replied with an indifferent voice, giving two small, delicate stitches on his skin.  
  
“The good ones are the worst, aren't they?” he whispered, dropping against the backrest as she finished stitching him.  
  
“Yeah,” Faye muttered, unable to repress her sadness.  
  
Faye maintained her eyes on the bloodstained cloth. She squeezed it in her hands before throwing it in the laundry basket and stood up to get the first aid kit.  
  
“Would you come to my room tonight?” Spike asked again as she washed the blood from the scar before placing a patch over it.   
  
“No,” she answered, but she could barely distinguish her words from a breath.  
  
He remembered it well, the first time he saw her. Behind the Black Jack table in that strait pink jacket. He remembered he wanted to fuck with her. Haunted by her green eyes. Spike sat there trying to seduce her, but she was always one step ahead of him. And that ended up the way it did.  
  
There were three times. The first time they were excessively drunk, and although he deliberately tried to seduce her, something inside him, he knew she was the one who cajoled him.  
  
Faye ran out of the room as soon as they were done, and he woke up with a terrible hangover. But they were both good at pretending things didn't happen. So there was never a problem between them.  
  
The second time was unexpected, wild, and happy. Because after several months of failed hunts they caught a bounty on a trip to Venus. They were so euphoric and full of adrenaline that they wound up fucking in the ship's bathroom.  
  
Faye fled again as soon as they set foot on the planet.  
  
The third time was more emotional. Faye was nothing but seeking closure. After getting the damn videotape and the frightening experience with Scratch. Faye fell asleep in his bed, for some absurd reason he woke her up to tell her, who she interpreted as an invitation to leave.  
  
And then Faye truly ran away and couldn't process what that meant to him because of other minor inconveniences. Of which he was now paying the consequences.  
  
“It's done,” Faye said as she finished bandaging his chest.  
  
“Won't you say you warned me?” he asked with a cheeky smile.  
  
“No. I've given up on you,” Faye replied standing up as she walked to the door.  
  
He didn't know what she meant by those words, but they hurt in an unexpected way.  
  
“I guess you're right,” replied Spike, unable to do anything but smile.  
  
Faye gave an unreadable grimace and left without adding a word.   
  
  
**A bounty on your head**  
  
  
"Logbook, Earth, January 18, 2073. This is the third week we spent on earth. Bebop is still under repair...”  
  
The beep of an incoming call caused him to drop the recorder on the navigation panel. It was Bob calling.  
  
“Hi Bob, how's it going?” asked Jet as he perceived his old partner's face appear on the screen.  
  
“I have something for you, before its publication on the official ISSP website,” Bob said on the other side of the screen.  
  
“I can't move far away, but any income will do me good,” he answered, brushing his hands together. “We're under the minimum.”  
  
Getting back to work would be good for everyone. The feeling that nothing had happened was odd. They had needed to get back to true normalcy before things got any worse.  
  
“I don't think you're going to get paid this time, Jet,” his friend sighed with an exasperated sigh as he typed something Jet couldn't see.  
  
“Why all the mystery, Bob,” he asked, bubbling with intrigue.  
  
The face of the bounty came up on the screen. They wanted him alive. They paid 60 million wolongs. For Spike Spiegel.  
  
Just what they needed at that moment. More trouble.  
  
“It's a private, anonymous bounty,” Bob reported, “ISSP has nothing to do with it. If I find out anything else, I'll notify you. Be careful.”  
  
“Thank you very much. I owe you one Bob,” Jet replied before his old friend hung up the call.  
  
New year, fresh problems.  
  
Spike walked into the living room, sat down on the couch with his legs on the table, and opened a beer can. Jet waited for Faye until she was done coming down the stairs. She waited on her feet by the table with her arms crossed. He showed the computer to his friends, without mentioning anything.  
  
“What the hell?” asked Spike when he recognized his wanted picture on the computer screen.  
  
“Fantastic news,” Faye muttered in a sarcastic tone, stealing a cigarette from the packet lying on the table.  
  
“They pay for me more than they paid for you,” Spike joked, touching Faye's legs with the tip of his shoe.  
  
She stepped back and refused to look at Spike.  
  
“Who's paying?” she asked without looking away from the screen.  
  
“It's an anonymous payer,” answered Jet, sighed, and looked at Spike."Do you think it could be the Red Dragon?" He asked with concern.  
  
“It's not their style. They're more like sending someone to kill me, without intermediaries,” he replied, leaning against the back of the sofa. He lit a cigarette and after a long puff, he set his feet on the floor and approached the screen.  
  
“I'm glad to hear that,” Jet muttered, breathing a sigh of relief.  
  
“It can't be them,” repeated Spike in thought.  
  
“Who have you pissed off this time, Spike-o?” asked Jet, taking a beer can himself.  
  
“It would be easier to start ruling out the ones he hasn't pissed off,” mumbled Faye.  
  
“Hey! I have no fucking idea what's going on here,” Spike looked at her, but she was looking at some indeterminate point in the room and didn't seem to notice.  
  
They didn't determine any conclusions, there were no clues or anything to go on. It was luck that the Big Shot was no longer on air. It would keep many people away. However, some dozens of bounty hunters knew Spike. People who knew where he moved or who his mates were. It was going to be a busy few weeks. They would have to be extra careful.  
  
  
**The missing one**  
  
  
She didn't know if she was doing right if all this was just an exercise of the most absolute egoism. But, they required help, and she didn't know anyone better than her.  
  
Maybe she was being a fool. After all, even if Spike was a dick, everyone wanted to help him. Even when he didn't ask for it. It must be due to his overwhelming charisma.  
  
Spike behaved as nothing had happened. Although it was usual for him to do so. Faye envied that ability. Or hated it. She was no longer certain of almost anything. She allowed herself to be carried away by this dynamic, by pure survival.  
  
Faye parked the Red Tail on the grass and jumped off the ship in one quick move.  
  
Earth was a rare place.  
  
Since the destruction of the moon, it had become virtually uninhabitable. The tides had become uncontrollable and destructive, the meteor storms forced most of the population to live underground. No one in his lucid mind wanted to live there.  
  
She recognized Ed in the distance who greeted her with energy and Faye smiled.  
  
“Faye - Faye!” greeted the little girl running towards her with Ein at her feet.  
  
She threw herself into Faye's arms and couldn't keep her balance, and they both fell to the ground. Ein ran around them barking frantically. She stroked the dog that licked her face and felt like crying.  
  
“I missed you, Ed,” she muttered sitting on the grass with the little girl still in her arms.  
  
“Ed missed Faye-Faye, too,” replied Ed, getting up and dusting off his clothes.  
  
“Where's your father, Ed?” Faye asked curiously.  
  
The girl pointed to the unfolding horizon before them.  
  
“Father-person is hunting meteors, Ed is calculating trajectories,” she replied, showing on the computer screen a math program that made millions of computations per second.  
  
“I'm sorry, Ed, I don't understand,” replied Faye, who put her hand in her hair and smiled.  
  
Ed sat down on the floor and settled the computer between her legs and began explaining programs and hundreds of things she was unqualified to understand.  
  
Faye didn't know how to restrain her excitement. So, she waited patiently for Ed to cease relating everything she desired to say.  
  
“Ed, I need your help, someone has offered a bounty on Spike, and we don't know who it is, could you find out?” Faye finally said as the little girl paused for a long time.  
  
“Of course, Ed wants to help,” she called out with enthusiasm. She took Ein in her arms and began to dance around Faye.  
  
Faye revealed Ed the recompense for Spike, and she tried to hack the site, but nothing seemed to work. The girl seemed frustrated and did nothing but snort and produce peculiar noises.  
  
“Don't worry, Ed. We'll find a way,” Faye said as she saw they were getting nowhere.  
  
“Could Ed and Ein go to Bebop?” Ed asked, “We can help Bebop and the father-person there.”  
  
“Sure, there'll be always a place for you, Ed,” Faye replied, standing up and offering her hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! 
> 
> I'm here again!! This fic will be slower. I hope you like it.  
> I intend to include all my headcanons in it, let's see if I can achieve it. 
> 
> Thank you for your support. 
> 
> See you soon.


End file.
